Singing by Candlelight
by darkmystress00
Summary: Part three of the Cell Block trilogy.


Beth watched her hands move over the keys of the small piano in the funeral home she and Daryl were using for shelter. Currently, said man was bunking down in a casket behind her. For a while she'd felt his eyes watching her, burning into the back of her head and side of her face. She'd continued playing until she stopped feeling those eyes. She looked over at him, noticing he was fast asleep in the fluffy box, his breath moving through him regularly; peacefully. She took a moment to appreciate him. Daryl was an attractive man. Beth would have had to be blind not to see that. Even before she'd had her first naughty dream about him, she'd thought he was probably the most attractive man she'd ever seen (in a bad-boy, rough and tumble kind of way.) It had made her feel awkward and little around him, so she'd avoided him a lot when he'd been on the farm. When they were at the prison she'd come more into the lime-light when Judith was born. She remembered the first time he'd called her over to the side to talk to her privately, asking her to look after Carl because Lori had just died and Rick had jumped off the deep-end. Even then her tummy had fluttered and she'd felt like an awkward teen (which she was, she'd only been freshly seventeen at the time.)

Now, at eighteen, almost nineteen, Beth still reveled in the fluttering of her tummy when she looked at him. She heaved a sigh, she'd have to get used to the fluttering since she'd be alone with him for God only knew how long. There was a chance they they could never find the rest of the group (a chance she NEVER wanted to really acknowledge out loud) and it would be her and Daryl until the end. A flash of hot skin sliding against hers, floated in her mind, the hint of rough facial hair scratching the inside of her thigh made her squirm. That night in the prison hadn't been her last naughty dream about Daryl Dixon. She'd had plenty in many different places, many different ways, and now that it was just the two of them, they came more often. She woke each time panting, overly warm and wanting to climb into his lap so he would make the tension in her body go away. Her breathing hitched as she moved, her thighs clenching together to confirm the wetness that was already gathering there. She whipped around to stare at the piano to try to calm her turbulent thoughts and racing heart. He'd wake up soon and she didn't want to be a trembling mess.

Daryl let out a groan and Beth froze. She knew that groan. She'd dreamed about that groan. Slowly, she turned and watched him as he fidgeted in the casket, breath hitching and little pants and groans floating through the air to her ears. Her heart raced quicker and she began to pant herself. Daryl Dixon was having a dream. _A sexual dream._ She stood, quietly, and walked out of the room. Listening to him was driving her crazy and she needed to do something or she'd jump his sleeping bones. She grabbed a candle and made her way to the bathroom, and tried to shut the door as quietly as she could.

Everyone had urges and needs, she knew that all too well, and she didn't want to embarrass him by giving any clue that she knew about his. The door clicked shut and she released a soft breath, walking over to the mirror to look at herself. Her cheeks were flushed, she could tell that in the pale moonlight filtering in through the slats on the window and the soft glow of the single candle she held in her hand. She looked around, grateful that they'd spread the candles through out different rooms, and started to light a few. She set her already lit candle next to a group in the corner of the countertop. She was breathing quickly, hands clenching the rim of the sink tightly, and she could practically read the sexual frustration in her face. She bit her lip her mind going back to Daryl who was dreaming about someone (she wasn't stupid enough to think it was her) making him feel oh so good.

A sudden thought hit her, she didn't need to be the only one to suffer. She could take the matter into her own hands, so to speak. She also didn't need to dream to have an orgasm. With shaky fingers she unbuttoned her pants, a delicate hand sliding inside her cotton panties, worn so thin they were almost see through. Her fingers slid through the slick wetness and touched the small bundle of nerves that she knew would help her find release, and she sighed softly, trying to keep her voice down so as not to wake Daryl in the other room. Her eyes drifted closed as her first two fingers circled that blessed little bud and pleasure shot through her, over and over again, mounting higher and higher with each pass. Daryl's face flashed in her mind, his arms his chest, everything about him came to mind to help fuel her fantasy. Her head tipped forward, her breath coming in fast pants as she touched herself to thoughts of the rugged archer currently asleep. His name passed her lips in the barest of a whisper and she felt pleasure shoot through her. She was so close and let out a soft moan, reaching and reaching for the completion she knew was just beyond her grasp.

Suddenly a pair of big, strong hands slid over her hips, one coming up to slide under her shirt and the other tangled with hers inside her panties, coating fingers that weren't hers in liquid heat fueled by naughty thoughts of her companion. She let out a yelp, her head snapping up to meet dark blue hot eyes piercing her in the mirror above the sink. She couldn't help the throb of pleasure that rocked her.

 _"Daryl?"_

~~~

Daryl was having the best dream. Beth was gloriously naked, her blond hair loose around her shoulders as she rose above him and sank down onto him over and over again. The sounds she was making were music to his ears and he knew he wasn't going to make it much longer.

The groan of rusty hinges and a click jerked him awake from his dream, mere moments before he was going to mess his pants, and for that he was grateful. At the same time he was so damn aroused it was almost painful with how close he'd come. He stared down at the tent in his pants, and then quickly his eyes flashed to the piano, expecting to see the object of his erotic fantasies sitting there completely unaware with how bad he wanted her. He'd wanted her for a long time, back when she wasn't strictly legal to want, and it made him feel a little dirty and wrong. She was so pure, and innocent and so full of hope that she made it hard not to want to be around her, and she didn't take his shit which made him respect her. She was beautiful. So full of inner light and happiness in this world filled with walkers and death everywhere. He was drawn to her like a moth to flame. She made him want to be better than he was before. She made him want to be more. She made him want to be more with her and with every passing day it was getting harder and harder to hide how much he cared about her.

With a deep breath he sat up, intent on finding Beth and letting her know it was her turn to sleep. He'd sit up for watch for a while. He moved down the hall, to the only closed door, and listened. He could hear rustling and breathing, so he knew she was inside. When he heard his name, barely a whisper, from behind the door, he gripped the doorknob and opened the door. The sight that met his eyes instantly had him hard, and moving before he could think better of it. Beth Greene, stood at the sink, a hand gripping the rim with white-knuckled intensity, and the other buried in her pants. She was breathing hard, head bowed, eyes closed, panting, groaning and sighing as she manipulated her body. She was so wrapped up in her pleasure and what she was doing she didn't hear the door come open, didn't hear the creak of the hinges, and didn't hear the heavy footfalls of Daryl's boots as he walked up behind her. He heard his name pass her lips again and his hands touched her sides, each taking their own route, one going high, up under her shirt to cup her breast through her bra, the other going low to slid into her panties and help her find that pleasure she was working for. Her head snapped up and his eyes met hers in the mirror.

 _"Daryl?"_ She looked like she'd just been caught stealing from the offering plate at church. Mortified, ashamed. Before she could change her mind, Daryl twitched his fingers, loving how her body seemed to buck back into him as a strangled whimper passed her lips. "I…I…" She stammered, trying to come up with something to say to make the awkward tension pass. As he touched her, his fingers sliding through the wetness between her thighs, Her eyes closed again.

"Just feel Beth." He breathed into her ear. He felt her submit, wanting this just as bad as he did. The hand that she had had in her pants slowly slid up, dragging against his wrist and forearm. She let out soft pants and muffled groans as he moved his fingers over her, through her. He circled her bud before placing a finger right on it and baring down in direct pressure only to back off and circle it again. He could tell she was doing her best to stay quiet, but he didn't want that. He leaned forward, his hot breath rolling over the shell of her ear. "Let it out, girl." His deep voice rasped. "I wanna hear you."

He sounded so aroused, and desperate to hear her that it made her knees weak. As a particularly strong throb of pleasure pulsed through her she let out a cry, not a shout, but loud enough that had anyone else been with them, they would most definitely have known what they were getting up to in this tiny bathroom. He rumbled out a responding groan. Just the sound of her got his blood pumping at a frantic rate. "Grip the sink with both hands, Beth." He pleaded, and was please to see her free hand shoot out to grip the sink in a death grip. He watched her in the mirror, but found he couldn't see her face. He wanted to watch as she fell apart. Her eyes met his in the mirror like she could read his mind and he wanted to smirk, but found that he couldn't. He was so arrested by the unrestrained pleasure and beauty of her face. He was in awe of her in that moment, when she made to look away he made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "No, Beth. I wanna watch you." She gave one tip of her head to show she'd heard him and met his eyes boldly in the reflective glass. It only took a few more swipes of his fingers before she was coming apart in his arms, legs going weak and leaning heavily on him. Her breathing stopped, only to be ripped from her lungs in a deep groan as pleasure flooded through her. Her arms shook, and her head fell forward. He still had his hand up her shirt and down her pants but in that moment she didn't care. She could feel him pressing against her, hard and wanting, pressing into the back of her jeans, insistent and that was all she could focus on.

When he made to move away she turned, her hands gripping his shoulders. He stared at her, memorizing the glow of her skin, the flush on her cheeks, the absolute sated pleasure in her eyes. He was momentarily held captive by her beauty. He watched as she studied his face, before stretching up and placing her lips against his. Her nimble fingers came up and threaded into his thick brown hair, anchoring him to her. If she thought he'd pull away she was very mistaken. His hands came around her back, pressing her into him, as their lips battled each other in their first actual kiss. She arched into him, her hips pressing against the hardness that she knew was the evidence of his arousal. The pressure ripped a deep guttural groan from him, which spurred her into action. Her hands came to his chest, pushing the jacket off his shoulders to let it fall to the ground behind her. Her fingers came to the button of his pants, popping it open and pulling the zipper down. Her fingers dipped into his pants, and she came in contact with hot skin.

Somewhere deep down she wasn't too surprised he didn't have boxers or underwear on, and honestly it just made everything that much easier. One less constricting, frustrating layer to contend with. She wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed and he froze, a groan sounding from his throat. Without warning, his hands shot down to push her undone pants and thin cotton panties to pool at her feet. When his hands swept up her thighs, and he lifted her to sit on the counter of the sink behind her, she tugged a foot out of her jeans, leaving them dangling from one ankle. His lips came to her neck, kissing and sucking, leaving behind little red scratches and soft red marks from his questing mouth and facial hair. When she pulled him out of his pants, not bothering to push the clothing down his legs, he met her eyes. She gave him a small smile, leaning up to kiss him as he stepped between her open thighs. With the push of a thumb he lined himself up before sinking into her wet, welcoming heat with a deep groan. She moaned to match him, her arms coming to his shoulders as her legs moved around his hips.

He pulled back and she whimpered at the loss, before he pushed back in, his hands gripping her thighs while his arms pressed her knees into his sides. He set a quick pace, loving the high sounds of pleasure she made with each plunge into her welcoming body. "Oh god…" Beth cried softly. "Yes…Daryl…" As she gripped his shoulders, one of his hands gripped the sink, anchoring them to it and allowing him to grind into deeply, earning a surprised gasp of pleasure. He could feel the bite of her fingernails into the skin of his shoulders through the shirt he still was wearing and it only spurred him on.

His lips crashed down on hers, a loud grunt sounding from him. Beth's cries were getting faster and louder as she got closer to her peak. Relief flooded through Daryl to know she was close, because he didn't know if he could hold out for much longer. She breathed into his ear, "Daryl…say my name." She pleaded, her voice laced with pleasure. "Oh please…"

He rocked into her, pleasure starting to lick its way up his spine and he grunted. She tightened on him and he let out a cry, _"Beth…"_ with that she let out a final cry, pleasure crashing through her as she clung to him. He followed her into pleasure with one final thrust into her tight body, her name a hoarse cry filling their small space.

They slumped against each other, legs and arms hold each other up, lips kissing any exposed skin they could reach. He met her eyes before her tentatively leaned forward and kissed her lips. Her hands came to frame his face, thumbs lightly stroking each cheek as their lips danced together. They looked at each other, both trying to come up with words, but neither of them really needing them. She gave him a smile as he stepped back and tucked himself back into his pants. She dressed quickly, pulling on her pants and panties, and took his hand. They made their way back to the room with the piano and worked together to create a bed on the floor (Beth was too creeped out to sleep in a casket, and Daryl wanted to spend the night holding her close.) As she snuggled into the circle of his arms she let out a yawn. "Get some sleep girl. I'll keep watch. You don't have to worry. I'm not going anywhere." She smiled into his chest.

"Good 'cause neither am I."


End file.
